


can you feel the urgency

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alpha George Washington, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon Era, F/M, Implied Past Rape, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Alexander Hamilton, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 21:19:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13132443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alexander falls for the man that enlisted him into the war despite being an omega, George Washington.





	can you feel the urgency

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexanger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanger/gifts).



> merry christmas alex!
> 
> this is my first time writing whamilton and its not beta read, so please don't be too harsh on your critics. id love comments!

George watches with a raised eyebrow as a twenty-something year old walks into his office. "Sir— Mr. Washington." He's got locks down to his shoulders, his face soft except for the three day old beard. "I want to help in this revolution. Britain's injustices aren't of my liking."

"What's your name, young man?"

Shoulders tensing, he replies, "Alexander Hamilton."

"And your caste?" he asks while writing his name down.

Alexander doubts for a second, squinting and rolling his shoulders. "I'm a beta," he says after a few seconds of silence. His scent is of tangerines, a quite neutral one, but he's clearly lying.

George dips his quill in the ink before writing the Greek letter omega down. There's no other reason for a man to lie about his caste than because he's an omega. Maybe it's shameful for a man to be like that, but George doesn't think he minds it.

Alexander stays still, almost not breathing. "Well?" he says. "Can I participate in this, General Washington?"

George cracks his knuckles. Alexander flinches. Probably from a past relationship or something, but he decides against writing it down. "You know omegas aren't made for war, right?"

Alexander crosses his arms across his chest. "I said I was a beta," he replies.

George closes his eyes before sighing. "You took your time answering. There's no other reason for you to do that except for a lie. So."

"Well, yes." He straightens up and balls his fists. "I am an omega. But I'm used to breaking the mold."

George could ask why, but he doesn't. He puts his hand on his chin. "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt our numbers to have one more soldier." He glances up at Alexander— he's sure of himself, in his stance and his raised chin. Attractive, he might say. "How old are you? Have you had your first heat yet?"

"I'm twenty, and I did have it. I was eighteen."

Quite young, but he doesn't say it. It's obvious without mentioning it out loud. "Well, if you get your heat while participating in the war you can leave to your tent. And if an alpha does something to you — anything — notify me.”

Alexander’s eyes are blown wide at the idea of an alpha protecting him. He doesn’t say anything, just nods and turns around. His scent of tangerines already has stuck to the place. “Well, see you in the field, sir.”

“See you in the field, Alexander.”

The young man tenses up again before leaving his tent.

* * *

When he goes to one in the pubs of New York City he meets three men, apart from the knowledgeable Aaron Burr. It's John Laurens, a small alpha with freckles; the Marquis de Lafayette, another alpha with a beard and a thick accent; and Hercules Mulligan, a beta who's loud and brash, besides, he's a tailor's apprentice.

"Let's raise a couple more — to the revolution!" Alexander, Hercules, Lafayette and Laurens exclaim while they take a shot. And Burr just watches from the sidelines, drinking wine. Alexander wonders how it's like to not be biologically predisposed towards being submissive.

"Well, Alex, how are you participating in this if you're an omega?" Laurens asks, voice a little too loud. He's been drunk for a few drinks now. "Did Washington allow you to enter the army? God, I bet he fancies you! Such a great little omega..."

Alexander's fear kick starts like that, just with that comment. George is over twenty years older than him. If he fancies him — his breath catches on his throat, and he looks away.

Hercules' voice rings in his ears. "Alexander, are you alright?"

And, besides, Laurens' comment isn't innocuous, either. His mind is plagued by thoughts of him taking advantage of his heat. He turns around and goes to the bathroom, muttering excuses for himself, his head spinning and his legs shaky.

But George is a good man. He just wants to defeat the British, he just wants to make America its own country. He wouldn't do what _he_ did — he wouldn't. He takes deep breaths, trying to calm the panic flaring in his mind. "You'll be alright, for fuck's sake, Alexander."

"You look like you saw a ghost," Laurens tells him when he walks into the pub again. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I just... remembered something bad." It's not completely a lie, so he's content with it.

He notices at some moment Burr is staring a them, and he gets up to talk to him. "You have been abused before, haven't you?" Burr asks once he sits next to him. He narrows his eyes.

"Keep your voice down," he hisses. Burr shrugs. "But yeah. How'd you notice?"

"From someone with the same problem, it was obvious."

"Why would anyone abuse a beta?"

Burr shrugs again. "Alphas do anything with whoever they want."

Alexander sighs. "I guess." He decides against dumping his entire life story on the man; he doesn't have to know everything. Just that they're two survivors, that they can keep surviving together.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Laurens asks for the tenth time ever since he got his uniform. "Battlefields aren't for omegas."

"My dear Laurens, I promise you, I know." Laurens pouts and ruffles Alexander's hair. "I want to make a difference. Let the world know omegas are worth more than just being in the home, taking care of children."

Laurens presses a kiss against his temple. "If any alpha, be it a redcoat or one of ours, touches you..." he doesn't finish the sentence. Alexander doesn't mention how he'd be happy if Washington touched him. He doesn't say it because he knows how jealous Laurens is.

George bustles into their tent and looks at Alexander. "Are you fit and ready, son?"

"I'm not your son." George nods, but doesn't say a thing. "And yes, I'm ready."

"You already know that, if an alpha..." George doesn't finish the sentence. Alexander gulps before nodding and kissing Laurens' cheek. He fixes his breeches and walks towards the exit of the tent.

He takes one of the horses, patting its head so it relaxes. George watches over him like an eagle, his hat put on straight and his lips pressed together.

"That's an omega?" he hears the hushed whisper follow across the different men on the horses. "Do you think he's capable of being bred? He'll get children fine as day if so." Alexander is nauseous at the objectifying comments.

Laurens holds his hand before going to his horse. "Everyone!" George starts. "The British are coming. Attack when you see fit." There's deafening silence for a few moments, before the British come forward. "Go!"

The sound of bullets roars in George's ears as he follows along. Alexander is ferocious in the battlefield, almost as if he's compensating for being an omega. Blood splatters and Washington guides his horse.

"Sir!" a man says, following him sitting on his own horse. "Why'd you allow an omega into the fight?"

"It won't hurt our numbers to have one more pair of feet with us, will it?" George replies, and the man is left silent. He charges against the British, and everything passes in a quiet yet loud murmur. When he's back to his usual mindset, he's nursing Alexander's wound while the beta nurses fuss over everyone else.

"Hey," George says, pressing against the wound. It's on his arm. The left one, thank God, leaving him able to still participate. "Are you alright?"

Alexander grumbles nonsense before rubbing his eyes. "I'm fine. Tired. Am I still bleeding?"

"Not really." He fixes Alexander's coat and cleans his face; it has some dust in his chin. "I've been thinking... Do you want to be my right hand man?"

Alexander blinks. "People will think you're fucking me on the side." He fixes his long locks and passes a hand through them. "Besides, I don't want to be anyone's secretary."

"Not even mine?" George teases.

Alexander flushes and doesn't answer. "I want to fight, not write. I enlisted myself for a reason, didn't I?"

George holds his hand, intertwining their fingers. "You can do both," he says.

"Surely?"

George nods.

"Alright, then. I'm not throwing away my shot, sir, but I'll help with your papers."

"Please, call me George, Alexander."

He blushes pink before nodding.

* * *

"That omega is probably _rubbish_ at writing," one man sneers while he walks next to George.

"I bet they're mates and George just gave him the position as a gift," other one says. He sounds so disgusted, and Alexander wants to yell at him.

"They don't smell bonded, though," the first man mutters.

"Being newly bonded is a thing."

Alexander hisses under his breath and presses closer to George, his face red. "For your information," he starts, looking at the two men. They cock their heads and raise their eyebrows. "I got out of the island I'm from by donations. Which started because of how good my writing was. And I'm not General Washington's mate. So suck my dick."

They start yelling at him that he's an omega, that he should keep quiet. Except for George. He puts a hand on his shoulder and guides him towards the rest of their way. "Alexander?" he says once they're away from the two men.

"Yes, sir?" he expects punishment for being brash, not the small smile George gives him.

"Good work, dealing with those men." The smile on his face lights up the whole valley they're in. "It's not like I would mind being your mate, as they say I am."

Alexander flushes pink. "You're married, sir!" _Is that your only objection?_ he asks himself, and he has no answers.

"But my Martha would be okay with it." He laughs, it rumbling through his throat. Alexander doesn't hear the general laugh often. He's so serious most of the time, and now he's here, joking with him. It's a little surreal, if you ask him.

But he laughs along. George slaps a hand on his back and he finds himself smiling. Alexander is incredibly grateful to be at his general's side.

Later, when they get to the main clearing, Laurens is waiting for them anxiously. Once they're there, he bows towards Washington and leaves with Alexander. "Did they bother you?" he asks immediately.

"Not much. They thought I was mates with Washington." He laughs airily, and Laurens furrows his eyebrows. "And Washington said he wouldn't mind that." He still is a little high from that exchange— how they held hands and laughed together. "He's so good."

"You think that?"

"Mhm."

"You should get in his breeches sometime."

Alexander's cheeks heat up. "Shut up!" he exclaims, face red. "I don't — he obviously doesn't really want me! I mean, he's married!"

"They could be open," Laurens shrugs.

Alexander shrugs too. "Maybe." He puts it in the backburner for now.

* * *

It strikes him at the most inconvenient moment possible. He's about to leave to the duel against Charles Lee when his body starts screaming for him to be bred. He gets up from the ground with wobbly legs as Laurens stares at him with confusion in his eyes.

"Where are you going?"

"I-I got my heat," he says. Laurens' eyes widen and his gaze drops to his crotch. His face flushes pink and he kicks at the ground. "Bring... Lafayette as your second. I bet he can take my place. Please."

"Alright, Alexander."

He's probably thinking I'm going to hide in the forest, he thinks as he walks towards George's tent. It's the biggest one of the bunch, unmistakable, and his head swims as he hurries inside.

George's familiar voice tumbles into his head. "Alexander! What happened?"

"Heat," he replies as he shimmies out of his breeches and his coat. "I'm so — I want —"

"It's fine, Alexander," George says, getting up and putting a hand on his shoulder. It's reaffirming, but he really wants anything but parental-ish touch right now. "I won't... do that, if it's what you're thinking I'm going to do."

"It's alright," he chokes out. Undesirable— of course George doesn't want him. Especially when his knees are wobbly and all he wants is to have an alpha with him. "Do you... do you—" he's lightheaded and he could throw up— "have anything for me to nest with?" all he wants is to hide in a bunch of blankets and leave the sight of any alpha. Because if they see him it means they'll touch him.

"I do, in fact." The omega breathes in relief. "I brought blankets just in case."

Alexander is quick to push himself into a mess of blankets and pillows, all of them smelling well. He buries his face in one of the blankets and stays there, off view and his mind barely remembering the fact his best friend is off in a duel while he's here.

"Alexander?"

"No!" he hisses, making himself smaller against the blankets and the pillows. He'll be just like _him_ — his touch is everywhere. He hasn't let himself be touched that way ever since his first heat happened. The idea leaves him sick to the pit of his stomach. "What do you want?"

"Are you alright? I'm just worried for you."

"Yes, I'm fine," he says, closing his eyes tight. He doesn't want to think about anything, maybe just be taken. He lets himself untense his shoulders. "George?" he's always called him sir, and the name is unfamiliar in his mouth.

"Yes, Alexander?"

"Can you... can you come here? Inside my nest?" George drops to his knees and gets inside the mess of blankets and pillows. "Can you kiss me?"

"Oh." George goes pink. "I thought you didn't..."

"Of course I do!" Alexander snaps, unbelieving. Did he really not know he's in love with him? It sounds preposterous. "But, do you?"

"I do, Alexander." He nods and sucks in a breath, growing ever closer. Noses bumping and fingers laced together. George cranes his neck just right and their lips meet in a haze. Alexander drinks the groan off George's lips needily, loving how he holds him by his back. For once his body doesn't scream at him to leave, unlike it did when he's with Laurens.

"I love you," he confesses, face buried in the crook of George's neck and drinking up his scent. It's strong but he can't pinpoint it; it consumes him whole despite that. "I've loved you for so long."

"I love you too, Alexander," George says, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.

Alexander lets himself smile. "I'm so glad this is a real thing that's happening."

"Me too."

They kiss again, and even though no sexual touching comes, his heat is appeased.

* * *

"This is your new mate, George?" Martha asks, clapping her hands excitedly. "He's so tiny! You never told me you had a thing for younger men."

George crosses his arms around his chest, looking embarrassed. "I didn't until I met him."

"You flatter me, George," Alexander replies, rubbing the mating bite in his neck. It still sorta hurts, as he hasn't been mated to the man for long. But their scents have started to mix and everyone gives them curious looks as they walk with each other. "So, this is your wife, George?"

They shake hands. Martha's hands are impossibly warm and she smells like home— of warm cookies mixed with George's scent. "I made some cake, to welcome you to the family."

"Thank you so much, Mrs... do I just call you Martha?" Martha nods sharply at that. "Alright, well, uh... thank you."

Martha laughs and brings him the cake. He starts eating immediately, shoveling food into his mouth. George laughs and pats his back before kissing his cheek. "You're so cute, my little omega."

Alexander flushes before handing him a piece of cake. "Hm, delicious as always, my Martha."

"Thank you, dear."

Alexander has never been this happy before.


End file.
